In Over Her Head: An Anchor Island Novel by Terri Osburn (reading eggs books .TXT) 📗

cooking for example. You can wish a pork loin would cook in five minutes, but that doesn’t change how long it actually takes. And if you try to rush it, you end up with a dish you can’t serve, making all of that effort for nothing.”

When she didn’t immediately respond, he thought he’d won the point. He should have known better.

“If you want something to cook faster, you turn up the heat. Everyone knows that.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Have I told you how adorably annoying you are?”

That earned him a poke in the ribs. “I am not annoying.”

“Yes, you are.” Nick kissed the top of her head. “So how about you? Where did you pay your dues?”

Lauren tensed against him. “Lots of places.”

Considering she was thirty-one and went to culinary school, she’d only been working for eight to ten years depending on when she went in. Even adding the experience gained before going to school, he couldn’t imagine the word lots applied.

“How many are we talking about? Three? Four?” Her response was mumbled and Nick failed to make out the words. “I didn’t catch that.”

“Nine,” she said louder.

That couldn’t be true. “No way. I’m five years older than you and I’ve only worked at six.”

Rolling onto her back, she tucked the sheet beneath her elbows and crossed her arms, her eyes locked on the ceiling. “I started when I was seventeen and went through three jobs before going to school right after I turned twenty. I graduated at twenty-three,” she continued in a flat tone. “Then I worked at six different places in the last seven and a half years.”

Nick had never known anyone who changed jobs that often. Knowing there had to be a reason, he turned to face her and asked, “Why so many?”

Jaw tight and lips pinched into a line, she continued to stare at the ceiling. Every thought crossed her face and he could see that she didn’t want to answer.

“Lauren.” With a slow blink, she met his gaze. “Why so many?”

Returning her focus to the ceiling fan, she sighed. “I’m sure you’ll find this shocking, but I’m not a people person.”

Most chefs weren’t. That’s why they chose the kitchen instead of being out on the floor.

“Anyone who picks this profession could say the same.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Nick, people don’t like me.”

“I like you.”

“You like having sex with me. Not the same thing.”

Turning her to face him, he said, “I like being with you. Period. Sleeping with you is a bonus.”

Her blue eyes went wide. “That sounds dangerously close to a relationship. We don’t do relationships, remember?”

Taking a risk, Nick trailed a thumb along her cheek. “What if that’s changed?”

Body stiff, she looked away. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

Relieved that she hadn’t run for the exit, he said, “Take your time.” Leaning forward, he kissed her pursed lips. “I’m willing to wait.”

Lauren lay awake long after Nick had drifted off to sleep.

I’m willing to wait.

What was she supposed to do with a statement like that? Lauren wasn’t deaf to the gossip. Nick had a reputation for being a playboy, and he’d apparently been loud and proud about his policy to never settle down. Though most women would find that a character flaw, she’d seen it as an insurance policy that he’d never expect more from her.

Now the jerk had gone and changed the game?

Exactly what was he willing to wait for? For Lauren to suddenly become someone she wasn’t? For her to ignore everything she knew about men and relationships and how they were both a losing proposition? Having a front row seat to her mother’s string of bad breakups—which often came with black eyes and always an empty bank account—had taught Lauren to never let anyone have control of her life.

Glancing to her left, she tried to picture Nick as any of the men her mother had dated. One by one, she ticked off the common traits. Selfish. Lazy. Possessive. Irresponsible. The man beside her was none of those things. If anything, he’d proved to be the opposite in every way. He’d shared his knowledge while giving her a place to vent and a shoulder to lean on. He’d seen her at her worst and never flinched. If anything, Nick was too good for Lauren, not the other way around.

No. This was all an illusion. They’d only known each other for a few weeks. Given time, history would repeat. He’d get tired of her neurosis and find someone else. Or she’d work too much and he’d get bored. No matter the reason, they’d end up hating each other and then be stuck on this puny island, unable to avoid crossing paths.

At least if she drew the line now, they might be able to stay friends.

Decision made, Lauren slid from the bed as slowly as she could and gathered her clothes that had been scattered around the room before tip-toeing out of the room. Minutes later, she slipped out the front door, careful not to make a sound. The light of the moon guided her home, and as she crawled into her own bed, she expected to feel relief. As if she’d caught herself before doing something incredibly stupid.

But relief didn’t come. And neither did sleep. Because the truth was, she’d already done the stupidest thing of all.

She’d fallen in love with Nick Stamatis.

16

“Where are the plates?” Lauren yelled.

“In the warmer, Chef,” Jackson replied.

“Who put them in there?” she demanded, her hands on her hips.

“You did, Chef.”

Lauren took a deep breath. Now was not the time to start tormenting her staff. When she’d broken the news about the pre-launch dinner the previous morning, no one had batted an eye. A reminder that she had a seasoned team used to serving far more than a dozen plus and a few kids. They’d worked throughout the day perfecting each dish and continued prepping through early evening, after which Lauren had locked the doors, feeling good about their progress.

She’d